Lost in Suburbia: Chew on this

When I was a kid, we had a Siberian Husky named Sasha. My dad decided on a Siberian Husky because he wanted a dog that had blue eyes like he did.

… Not that he’s shallow or anything.

Sasha was a chewer. He wasn’t just a dog toy or bone chewer. Sasha was an indiscriminate chewer and was so good at chewing that he could have competed professionally in a national chew competition. He chewed the leg off the kitchen table, chewed up the seats on the five kitchen chairs, chewed up a chunk of the linoleum kitchen floor, chewed the arm off the living room sofa, a third of an oriental rug, and an entire rattan bookcase. He chewed the seat off the downstairs toilet, and finally, knocked the bathroom door down, split it in half and chewed that, too.

Needless to say, Sasha did not stick around too long.

Before we got Sasha, we had a Golden Retriever named Honey. Honey was not a chewer. Honey was a licker. Big difference. With a chewer, your things get destroyed. With a licker, your things stay intact but get so covered with drool that you don’t want to touch them without donning a hazmat suit.

When I grew up and had my own family, we got a Retriever named Riley. Riley was also a chewer. In his lifetime, he chewed up several stuffed animals, an Ugg boot, a ball of knitting yarn, and an astonishing assortment of our family’s underwear. Riley, however, didn’t hold a candle to our real chewer, our pet chinchilla, Henry. Henry chewed his way through a lamp cord, a clock cord, a backpack, and a plastic folder with the homework inside, all from within his cage. Try telling your teacher your chinchilla ate your homework and see what response you get.

Now we have another Golden Retriever named Monty. Monty is a licker. Monty will come over to you and, by way of a greeting, lick your hand, your pants, your shoe, or really anything else he can get his tongue on. Sometimes he will pass through a doorway, and lick that for good measure. His favorite licking spot, though, is the glass back door. Nothing says “I keep a clean house,” like a display of dog tongue streaks all over your glass door.

I guess I should be grateful that Monty is not a chewer. I’ve heard of dogs that have chewed and ingested shoes, toys, cell phones, and even a Wii controller. In the case of the cell phone, rumor has it the phone actually went down in one piece and the owner realized what had happened to it when it started to ring.

Fortunately, the dog was okay and, shockingly, the phone still worked.

But I’m not sure I would want that particular phone back.

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